


Dykes to Watch Out For

by myystic (neoinean)



Category: White Collar
Genre: Character of Color, Coming Out, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:46:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoinean/pseuds/myystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana and Peter and one uncomfortable conversation that's really another equally uncomfortable conversation in disguise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt: clue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for whitecollar100 over on LiveJournal as a series of double- and triple-drabbles strung together into a longer story. Original story framework is preserved in that each drabble is its own chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "in which Diana suffers an inconvenient breakup."

Joanne was hardly her roughest breakup to date, all things considered, but it was certainly the most ill-timed. Four months into her probation and suddenly she was back to living out of suitcases in a rousing game of hotel roulette; depressing, but familiar.

Back-to-back cases with a probie’s workload meant she didn’t have time for apartment-hunting. Add the constant hotel bills on a probie’s salary and saving up for first/last and security became a long-term goal instead of a short-term inconvenience.

By the the end of the third week -- eighth different hotel and too few trips to the dry-cleaners -- she knew her professional image was slipping. But then they’d caught a rough case who’s tail end saw their suspect escaping after she’d twisted her ankle giving chase. Exhausted and limping and cranky and ready for the mother of all dressing-downs -- she’d been too thoroughly nonplussed to argue when her boss didn’t say a word beyond one politely concerned offer to drive her home.

Then it was only gentlemanly, his seeing her to the door -- she was limping, after all -- but the order to grab everything because she was checking out? That had rung with pure command -- and left her completely speechless.

Was this where she was supposed to tell her boss that the reason she was living in cheap hotels was because her girlfriend kicked her out? She was out to friends and family, sure; but the FBI was a different beast entirely. Full of testosterone and old-school patriarchy. And while she _liked_ Peter -- he was a good agent and a good boss -- she didn’t _know_ him. Not really. And not nearly enough to know if honesty was always the best policy.

Turned out she had a lot to learn.


	2. Prompt: file

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "in which Peter reminds us that his day job is investigating people."

Apparently she stood gaping a bit too long. Or maybe her boss just felt the need to explain himself. “What, you think HR would just let you erase your old address without filling a new one?”

 _Busted._

“At first, I let it slide. Shit happens, right? Figured I’d give you time to sort yourself out, but _three weeks_? Diana--”

“I--”

“--why didn’t you come to me?” Incredulous. Concerned. Maybe even a little bit hurt that she hadn’t confided in him. And definitely clueless as to why.

And now the moment of truth. There was no way she couldn’t answer. Too bad she had no idea what, exactly, she was going to _say_.

“Is this because you’re gay?”

She saw the exact moment when her boss heard his own words, and then she watched in fascination as he pursed his lips and dropped his eyes while a blush rose up from his collar. She’d never seen Peter Burke look even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

And she could have answered -- that awkward pause was better than a gilded invitation -- but her own tangled mess of surprise and not-surprise and _did you just really fucking ask me that?_ left her wrong-footed enough that her boss was able to recover first. When his head came up a moment later he had his game face on.

“It’s your business who you tell. I respect that. But -- did you really think it would escape the background check?”

Chin raised, she looked him square in the eye. “I didn’t think it was relevant.” If he really wanted to have this conversation now, then she certainly wasn’t going to shy away from it.


	3. Prompt: clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "in which Diana hears what Peter isn't saying."

Her boss sighed, hung his head, said, “no. No it’s not.” And looked just about as tired as she felt. “But that still doesn’t tell me why you let your emergency contact lapse three weeks out of date.”

Now, she’d seen her boss in interrogation, would have sworn she could have pegged his style, but even that hadn’t prepared her for this second bombshell he’d just tossed into her lap. Apparently the discussion that she could scarcely believe they were having was actually a _different conversation entirely_ , and once again she was surprised and not-surprised and -- _maybe I should have seen this coming_?

Because she’d twisted her ankle ducking gunfire, and true it was only seconds before her boss knew why she hadn’t sprung back up again, but each and every one of them had been reflected back at her: in the way his hands shook as he’d helped her up, the way he hadn’t let her out of his sight between the scene and the EMTs -- his rank overruled her protests -- and then finally at the office.

No. Finally here in her hotel room. And he’d driven her so that they could talk without an audience. She was so used to her sexuality being the elephant in the room that it was downright _surreal_ , having someone else ignore it completely to focus on the tiger instead.

“Boss--”

“No.” Punctuated with an erratic hand-wave. His fingers landed on the bridge of his nose, pinched it hard before stabbing at his eyes. “No. You’re tired. I’m tired. It’s the weekend. Just -- we don’t have to do this now. Pack up, check out, meet me at the car.”

“But--”

“You’re staying with us tonight.”


	4. Prompt: hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "in which Peter is a gentleman."

_Hell._

Of all the things she hadn’t expected, that one was probably the winner. “Boss?” And she really must look a sight, wide-eyed and disheveled and reduced to monosyllables.

“Right. Your ankle,” he said, before she could figure out exactly which question to ask, and he sounded chagrined, as though he’d actually thought -- out of all the words knocking around inside her head -- that she’d have actually followed up with _but I can’t hop and schlep a suitcase at the same time_.

“Just get your stuff together. I’ll take it to the car while you settle the bill.”

He would, she realized. He really would.

And then he really did.

Then, as they were driving, when he had the luxury of keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road: “now, you can’t afford to stay for long -- not that we’re actually _charging_ you, or even that we don’t want you to stay -- but I’m your SA and you’re my probie and all we need is one bigoted asshole who takes exception to your existence crying foul just for spite and then its both our asses, mine in a sling and yours likely out the door. So tonight -- this weekend -- you’re with us. And starting Monday you get a week of sick leave so Elizabeth can take you apartment-hunting.”

“Apartment-hunting?”

It was more of a parroted squawk than an actual question. Her head was still stuck on the part where Peter Burke was actually _jeopardizing his career_ to help his dyke probie partner out simply because she is his partner, probie or not, and it’s his job to watch her back.

Or maybe because it was the decent thing to do and Peter Burke was just a decent human being, end of story.


	5. Prompt: catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, "in which there is a caveat. Also, an understanding."

But the boss wasn’t done. “Minute you get back, you’re updating your personnel file. Protocol says you need a local contact in case of emergencies, and that’s non-negotiable. You don’t know anyone in town, fine. Ask one of the team. Hell you can use me if you want. But you will find somebody because so help me I will _chain you to your desk_ until you have one -- understand?”

There was nothing she could say against an order like that. Nothing she could say, _period_ , that wasn’t: “yes, boss.”

“Good.” Corner of her eye, she saw him nod; tight-lipped and perfunctory. His hands flexed once around the steering wheel. “That’s good,” came out so much softer than the rest, like he’d been speaking for himself alone, and hearing it made her insides twist in realization.

“So. Never been out to my boss before.” That startled a laugh, but then it was meant to. They needed to laugh after the day they’d both had.

“Well I’m honored, then.”

No way she could ever repay him -- no way he’d ever want her to; for him this was just part of being her boss -- but this? This she could do.

“Well, you should be.”

This she _would_ do, and gladly.

“Good.”

“Good.”

And then they both were laughing.

 

- _fin_ -

**Author's Note:**

> White Collar belongs to USA Networks and Jeff Eastin. Dykes to Watch Out For is the title of a syndicated comic strip by Alison Bechdel, homaged with the utmost respect but not actually used with permission. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
